


eyes down

by surviving_and_thriving



Series: birds of a feather [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Chaos, Gen, M/M, Neil Josten is Not Fine, Parental David Wymack, another known lippy lil shit, god can u imagine two andrews or two ronans, love that one too, man I love that tag, now thats what i call yikes, ok so we know adam is a lippy lil shit, so what happens when he meets neil, wymack calls the foxes his kids and i live for that shit man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:54:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26380741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surviving_and_thriving/pseuds/surviving_and_thriving
Summary: neil and adam are far too similar for wymack's taste. they both mouth off, both are self-sacrificing, and both of them take a brutal hit on the court during their season opener.if wymack though the similarities between neil and adam were bad, wait til he sees the ones between andrew and ronan.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: birds of a feather [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917226
Comments: 6
Kudos: 220





	eyes down

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is a repost of something i posted on september 8th. i decided i didn't like the layout i was doing (grouping all my oneshots in one big work), so i'm going to separate them into individual works in a collection. that way, it's easier to find the ones that you want to read :)
> 
> also, just fyi: in this fic, adam was the only freshman wymack could get to sign after the debacle that was the spring of neil's freshman year (bc let's be realistic, no one would want to go to PSU after *that* hot mess)

Wymack was almost one hundred percent sure he was going to end up killing someone by the end of the game. He just wasn’t quite sure yet if it’ll be the idiot referees, who seem to be doing next to nothing to keep his Foxes from being pummeled in obvious and illegal moves on the court, Neil for not keeping his goddamn mouth shut and not antagonizing the other team for one game in his life, Andrew for not doing anything about Neil, or his new freshman striker, Adam, who, out of everybody on the entire fucking team, chose to be like Neil.

And not even in the "shut up before the person taunting you kills you" kind of way. No, Adam just had to have taken on Neil’s I’m fine trait, which was, somehow, even worse. Not that he hadn't taken on the mouthy trait as well. Adam was a quiet sort of quippy, sniping at people on the court, but never off it. 

It was the first game of the season and he was already to main his own player. Jesus, this was going to be a long season.

Wymack watched another one of Tennessee's backliners slam into his striker sub and ached to pull him from the game, but Kevin had taken a particularly brutal hit ten minutes into the second half and the team was still too small to have a spare striker, forcing him to put the freshman in for almost a full half. Thankfully, the Foxes were, for once, leading with a comfortable gap in the score, so he just needed Adam to last through the game. Tennessee was fairly new to Class I Exy, and it was obvious in their playing.

Although both courts were blindingly orange, the game was at Tennessee’s court, not the Foxhole, and the refs seemed to be obviously biased towards the Volunteers. Tennessee’s players were getting away with plays that were clearly illegal and he could see the frustration building in his players. They had, to their credit, kept their playing clean as the Foxes, unlike the Volunteers, didn’t have enough players to sacrifice with dirty moves.

Wymack had longed to double the line and, if the back half of the previous year had gone as planned, he would have. However, the fucking Moriyamas had ruined those plans and the only new player he had managed to sign was the quiet, but determined, striker from Nowhere, Virginia to replace Seth.

Adam Parrish was an interesting addition to the line. He was good enough for a freshman, which meant that Kevin tolerated him at the best of times and ignored him at the worst. Adam didn’t kick up trouble, didn’t say much of anything, which would have been a perfect foil to Neil “has never, and will never, shut his goddamn mouth” Josten, if not for the fact that he seemed to have no regard for his own safety.

Wymack had watched Adam get flipped by Matt at practice, then brush off any attempt to hep, insisting that Matt be checked out first because he accidentally caught the edge of the older boy’s helmet with his cleat while being flipped. He had watched the freshman get leveled in a game by a player double his size and refuse to see Abby because he didn’t want to inconvenience her.

Getting the kid to accept help was harder than it was for Neil and, from what he had heard from Aaron, Adam was the same way in the dorm. Wymack had heard him, complaining loudly, at weight one morning that Adam had made them late because he had passed out after refusing food from him. Apparently, the kid had run out of food and didn’t have the money to buy any, but was allergic to accepting help, so he had just decided to starve. Wymack hadn’t said anything at the time, not wanting to put Adam on the spot, but if a bowl of granola bard appeared in the lounge soon after, well, that was no one’s business.

The plexiglass in front of Wymack shook as another one of his payers was rammed into the wall, and he was shocked out of his thoughts. Neil groaned in front of him as he pushed off the floor of the Court, shaking his head before taking off after the ball.

At his groan, Wymack looked at the clock, sending up a silent thanks that there were only thirty seconds left in the game.

Unfortunately, the Tennessee Volunteers seemed to realize that fact as well. Seeing as they were definitely going to lose, the Vols switched from trying to score to trying to take out as many Foxes as possible.

Wymack watched in furious silence as his players continued to go flying. He wanted nothing more than to storm out on the court and shake the referees for letting his players, fuck , his kids, get hurt. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for deciding to coach such a violent sport; he physically hurt when his kids hurt.

Wymack made to glance back up at the clock, but a yell from the Foxes goal drew his attention. Andrew usually wasn’t one for making noise during a game, so any time he did, Wymack immediately went on alert.

He didn’t see anything wrong with Andrew, but his goalie’s gaze was fixed on Neil. And, with yet another curse, Wymack saw why.

One of the Vols backliners was clearly targeting Neil, trying to take him out before he could get a shot off to Adam. Neil seemed to realize this as well, because he fired the ball to Adam with none of his usual accuracies, before bracing, recognizing that another brutal hit was coming soon.

The backliner slammed Neil into the wall of the court with such force, Wymack felt the plexiglass vibrate from across the court. He barely had time to process Neil dropping like a ragdoll before the buzzer sounded for a Fox goal. 

Adam, miraculously, had caught Neil’s haphazard pass and had managed to score. Wymack wanted to feel happy for the youngest Fox, but he was worried for Neil, who still hadn’t gotten up.

Seconds after Adam’s goal, the buzzer rang out again, signaling the end of the game. Wymack had to time see Adam pull his helmet off to marvel at the score, 9-4, Foxes, which, in another reality would have blown Wymack’s mind; this was not the same team as the one that started last season. However, in this reality, Wymack was on the court in seconds, with no regard for the score, aiming for Neil, followed swiftly by Abby. 

He was so focused on getting to his downed striker that he missed the same backliner who had taken Neil out sprint towards the Tennessee goal. He did, however, hear Adam’s startled shout and pause in his run towards Neil to see the backliner slam into Adam, sending his head, uncovered by a helmet, directly into one of the goalposts. 

He froze and could feel Abby do the same. In the second he stood still, the Foxes erupted. Half his kids launched themselves at the other players, while the other half rushed to help the two downed strikers.

Abby pivoted and headed to Adam, while Wymack continued towards Neil. Andrew was at his side, holding him down under a firm hand and a trademark glare. He had removed Neil’s helmet, so Wymack got a crystal-clear look at how much pain Neil was in.

As he got closer, he could hear Andrew talking to him, keeping Neil calm.

“Stay down, Junkie. You aren’t fine so don’t even try it.”

Wymack huffed out a laugh, “If I hear the words ‘I’m fine’ come out of your mouth once, and I mean once, this season, I will bench you until you are a senior.”

Neil rolled his eyes, then seemed to regret the action, promptly closing his eyes and groaning.

“Help me up,” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred, offering his arm to Andrew for help.

“Absolutely not, Josten,” Wymack started. “You just got what little brain you got left knocked out of you. You are going to stay down until Abby finishes with Adam and comes over here and clears you herself.”

Neil accepted that, relaxing more against the ground.

Andrew, however, seemed perturbed. 

“The fuck happened to the freshman?”

Wymack silently laughed at Andrew’s tunnel vision. The kid had eyes for Neil only.

“The same guy that hit Neil pushed him into the goalpost after the final buzzer. Adam hit his head pretty hard and went down. He wasn’t wearing his helmet.”

Andrew got his “I’m going to murder someone” look, and made to get up, probably to go after the backliner. Wymack had half a mind to let him, but, he reminded himself, they were down two players for the next week. Thank god the Foxes had a bye-week next week.

Wymack pulled Andrew back down.

“Stay here with him,” he said, inclining his head towards Neil. “I’m going to go check on Adam and Abby. You okay here?”

“I’m -” 

“Finish that sentence, Josten, and I will leave you in Knoxville and make you walk back.”

“That’s a longer walk than Columbia to Palmetto, isn’t it, Coach,” Andrew replied cheerfully. “Don’t tempt him.”

Wymack rolled his eyes but took the banter as the reassurance it was and left the two of them. Neil didn’t seem too out of sorts, but that wasn’t saying much for him. The kid could be, had been, torn to shreds and still walk around like normal.

As he made his way over to Adam, Wymack saw that his team had, for the most part, stopped fighting, however, Dan seemed to still be holding Allison back but was talking to the referees with some Tennessee players and their coach. He supposed he should go over there, but he wanted to check on his players first.

Abby and Renee blocked Adam from his view, but when he came up to their little huddle, they parted to let him in.

Adam was awake, but Abby had her hands against the sides of his neck to stabilize his head, meaning she thought there could be a serious injury, which was not ideal.

Renee was speaking to Adam in a quiet voice, in a way that was meant to be comforting, but Adam just looked lost and a little confused.

“Renee,” Wymack started, “he’s deaf in one ear, he probably can’t hear you with Abby’s hands over his ears.”

Realization flashed across her face and she smiled apologetically at Adam. He furrowed his brow in response, making Wymack laugh. He forgot how young the new freshmen look when they first join the team.

He stepped closer, raising a hand to put on Abby’s shoulder. Adam, just now seeing him, flinched. Hard.

Wymack froze as Abby cursed and tried to adjust her hands to accommodate Adam’s movement. He stepped away, rattled, and nodded at Renee, before heading towards to clump of players surrounding the refs.

He sent his players to get changed, skipping the end-of-game handshake, while he dealt with the refs. The kid who had hit Neil and Adam was eventually banned for the rest of the season and Tennessee got a sportsmanship fine, but Wymack couldn't focus on that.

None of his players had ever flinched from him before Neil and, with the trust Neil now gave him, he had forgotten how much it hurt to see his kids scared of him. Wymack didn’t know a ton about his freshman, only that, financially, he had more than qualified for the team, and that his coach at Aglionby had nominated him. 

The fact that Adam was deaf in one ear, from “blunt force trauma,” his physical said, and his reaction to seeing Wymack with his hand up filled in some blanks and made his heart hurt for the kid.

By the time he made it back to the locker room, his team was changed out and waiting on Abby, Neil and Andrew, and Adam. 

He pushed through his team, waving off their questions, heading for the medical room.

Once inside, he made his way over to Abby.

“What’s the verdict?”

“Well,” she started, “They’ve both got concussions for sure. I’m not totally sure how bad either of their concussions are, so I want to keep an eye on them. Neil hit his shoulder pretty hard when he hit the wall, so I want to get that MRI’d back at the campus just to make sure he’s okay. Adam’s done something to his ribs, I’m sure if they’re broken or bruised, so those will need to be x-rayed, as well. Ideally, we’d go to a hospital but -”

And then, in eerie synchronization, his strikers interrupted Abby.

“No hospitals.”

“Oh! And Adam,” she said, turning to him, “I contacted your emergency medical contact. He was at the game, so he should be on his way down now.”

At that, Adam’s eyes widened, almost comically.

“You called Ronan? And he was here ?”

“Should I not have?”

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t think he would’ve left Henrietta.”

Wymack rounded on Abby, “Why only contact Adam’s contact?”

“Neil’s is right there,” she responded, pointing to the corner currently occupied by Neil and Andrew.

Wymack opened his mouth to poke fun of his players but was stopped by a commotion coming from the locker room.

He opened the door only to be greeted by what Wymack can only describe as the most intimidating teenager Wymack had ever seen.

The kid looked like what Andrew would look like if he had six more inches, a massive fucking tattoo, and a buzz cut. The two of them had the same piercing stare, the same apathy-coated expression, barely covering up anger, the same defensive posture. 

Wymack backed up, letting the kid into the room, and he beelined to Adam. Ha, Wymack thought, same one-track mind, as well.

Wymack watched as, inexplicably, Adam relaxed when the other kid stepped up to his side.

“Jesus, Parrish,” the kid spoke, a hint of the same accent that clung to Adam’s voice dragging his vowels down. “You don’t do anything by half, do you.”

“Shut up, Ronan, what are you doing here?”

“Came to watch my boyfriend play, what the fuck else would I be doing?”

Behind him, Wymack heard sounds of celebration and regret as yet another bet was settled. Fucking Foxes.

After making sure that Adam was okay, the two of them having a hushed conversation in, what was that, fucking Latin? Ronan turned towards Wymack.

“I’m taking him home with me.”

“Actually,” Wymack began, “players have to ride with the team.”

“Actually,” and oh god, did this kid remind him of Andrew, “he’s coming home with me.”

“Coach,” Adam said, drawing his attention, “It’s fine. I’ll be back in time for practice Monday.”

Wymack sighed. He was getting too soft in his old age. And these kids reminded him too much of how Andrew and Neil acted last year, a memory he did not want to relive.

“If you try to get on the court before Abby clears you -” he threatened.

“You’ll bench me until I’ve graduated, yes, Coach, I know,” Adam snarked back. Yeah, too much of Neil in this kid.

Andrew cackled from the corner, “Your insults are getting repetitive, Coach.”

“Shut up, Minyard, or I’ll have you running marathons until Christmas.”

Andrew waved him off and Wymack closed his eyes. Menaces, all of them.

He helped Adam get up and gather his things, Adam staunchly ignoring the questioning stares of the other Foxes and Ronan doing his very best impression of Andrew’s glare.

The two of them left the locker room together, Ronan shouldering Adam’s bag, despite the striker’s protests, and supporting him with his free arm.

As they passed him, he heard Adam ask about a nightwash something-or-other, but as long as it wasn’t the mafia, Wymack couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Once Adam and Ronan left, Wymack shook his head in disbelief, every time he though his team couldn't get any weirder, they proved him wrong, and corralled his team into the bus.

After getting every in, he climbed in and got settled for the long drive back. The ride was, at first, quiet, the team decompressing from the brutal game, but the silence was broken, unsurprisingly, by Nicky.

Wymack tuned into the conversation, interested in where it was going.

“Kevin,” Nicky started, a teasing tone coloring his voice, “do you have a blond, shorter-than-you, hot boyfriend? Seems to be the type of the other strikers on this team and, I just gotta know, is it a requirement?”

Wymack heard the sound of something sail through the air, but it clattered harmlessly on the ground by his feet. He glanced down at it and saw a water bottle with A. Minyard printed on it. Ah, Andrew must have thrown it at his cousin. A quick look in the rearview mirror confirmed that the reason it had missed was that Neil was currently slumped again Andrew, and the goalie looked like he had no intentions to jostle him. 

Allison piped up next, “Well, Thea’s hot and shorter than Kevin. Two out of three ain’t bad.”

“Jeremy’s blonde. And shorter than Kevin,” replied Matt.

The next thrown water bottle, Kevin’s if Wymack had to guess, hit its target with a loud thwap.

**Author's Note:**

> also, i have nothing against the Tenessee Volunteers, my brother just started college there, so it's on my mind


End file.
